Jiraiya

Jiraiya wasn't sure what was wrong with him, exactly. He had no physical symptoms to speak of, no headache or fever or chills or cramps. And he didn't think he had any psychological symptoms, though he wasn't positive he would accurately be able to identify them even if he did. At the very least, he didn't think he was hallucinating or hearing voices (unless he was imagining this entire trip. Which he wasn't willing to conclude was entirely out of the realm of possibility, at this point). But, either way, he still felt like he was thinking clearly, still felt like he had his wits about him.

And yet there was still clearly something terribly, terribly wrong with him.

He was convinced that he had to have lost touch with reality at some point, his sanity fraying until his psyche was only hanging on by a few loose threads. It was the only explanation. He wouldn't have done this if he had been in his right mind — he wouldn't still be doing this if he was in his right mind. It went against everything he'd sworn himself to, everything he believed to be true. So there had to be something wrong with him. There had to be.

Because, really. What the fuck had made him think this was a good idea?

"Pervy Sage."

Fucking hell.

"...Pervy Sage."

"Pervy Sa —"

Jiraiya dragged a hand forlornly over his face, the sweat sliding across his palm. "What, Naruto?"

Shoes scraped against the ground as Naruto jogged up to him, and Jiraiya tried not to glare at the boy as he slowed to a walk beside him. It wasn't Naruto's fault, he knew; he hadn't asked to come on this mission, hadn't had even the slightest idea of what it was going to entail. He had every right to be annoyed and ask questions.

But if the blond started bitching about where they were going one more time, Jiraiya was going to absolutely —

Naruto jabbed a thumb back over his shoulder. "Weren't the hot springs back that way?"

Jiraiya frowned. Not exactly the topic of conversation he thought Naruto was going to broach, but he would take it over his standard are we almost there yet? any day. "They were."

A strange perplexity overcame Naruto's features. "Are we...not stopping there?" he asked, sounding so genuinely upset by the notion that Jiraiya almost, almost wanted to laugh.

But he was frustrated and pissed off. So he settled for a noncommittal grunt. "No."

"What?!" Jiraiya grimaced at the sudden sound, leaning away from Naruto and fighting the urge to cover his ears. "Why are we going through the Land of Hot Water if we're not stopping at the hot springs?! You can't even get to the Land of Lightning from here!"

Jiraiya didn't bother holding back the glare this time when he turned to look at Naruto. "This isn't a field trip, you know," he bit out.

Naruto threw his arms up. "No, I don't know! Because none of you will tell me! You've just had us walking through the forest for days!" He gestured back towards Kakashi and Sasuke. "And you still won't let me talk to fake Sasuke!"

Jiraiya sighed. This again. If it wasn't the distance Naruto was complaining about, it was Sasuke's sullen silence. "He doesn't want to talk to you, Naruto."

"I bet he does," Naruto whined. "You just told him not to for some weird, stupid reason."

Jiraiya came to an abrupt halt. Naruto cursed beside him as he nearly tripped over his own feet, but Jiraiya ignored the blond in favor of looking back over his shoulder, leveling his gaze at Kakashi and Sasuke. The two were walking a few paces behind him, their heads angled down as they spoke in low, murmured voices.

"Hey." Kakashi and Sasuke stopped, stared at him. Jiraiya indicated Naruto with a slight tilt of his head. "Sasuke." The boy raised a brow. "Say hi to Naruto."

The Uchiha made a face at the inane request, glancing at Naruto before returning his attention back to Jiraiya. "No," he said, the answer short and resolute.

Good boy.

Jiraiya nodded and turned back to Naruto with a shrug. "See? He doesn't want to talk to you."

Naruto's mouth fell open as Jiraiya started walking again. "Fine," Jiraiya heard him grumble, the blond rounding sharply on his heel and practically stomping away. And then all was silent for a few precious, precious moments.

It didn't last, of course.

"Naruto," the exasperation was clear in Kakashi's voice. "What are you —"

Jiraiya rolled his eyes. What now? He looked behind him, dreading the prospect of having to deal with whatever sort of fit Naruto was pitching.

He stopped walking as he watched Naruto sidle right up next to Sasuke, throwing an arm around the Uchiha's shoulders with a lackadaisical nonchalance. Sasuke's nose crinkled at the sudden contact. When he looked at Naruto, his expression was one of thinly veiled disgust.

A mild alarm dug hard under Jiraiya's skin, burrowing deep into his muscles. "What are you doing?"

Naruto, evidently oblivious to Sasuke's distaste and Jiraiya's unease, only wrapped his arm tighter around the Uchiha. "Talking to my new best friend."

Slowly, Sasuke looked up at Jiraiya. The Uchiha kept his arms by his side, turned his hands so that his palms faced out. A submission: I'm not going to hurt him.

Jiraiya took a breath as he tried to calm his nerves. He's not going to do anything — he'd be a moron to try. Because while Sasuke might be an irascible, impetuous brat, he had to have at least some semblance of self-preservation if he'd managed to survive this long.

Jiraiya turned his attention back to Naruto, keeping Sasuke in his periphery. "C'mon, cut it out," he said, his tone nonchalant. He waved a hand at the blond, silently urging him to get the hell away from Sasuke. But Naruto only shook his head.

"Not until someone tells me what's going on," he demanded.

Jiraiya felt a dull aggravation start to burn deep in his chest. It was an effort to keep his voice level when he spoke. "We don't have time for this, Naruto."

"But why?" Naruto complained. "What's the big deal with this guy?" He tugged on Sasuke.

Jiraiya immediately aimed a sharp glare at Sasuke, remembering the boy's pitiful reasoning for telling Kakashi the truth: he asked. Jiraiya fueled as much ferocity into the look as he could muster. Don't you fucking dare, Uchiha.

Sasuke remained silent.

"So?" Naruto asked. "Are you going to tell me, or what?"

Just take a breath, Jiraiya. You're the one who dragged him into this in the first place.

The air was hot and sticky as it made its way through his nose and down into his lungs. "You don't have the clearance to know," he said.

"But I have the clearance to be on this mission with you?"

"You —"

"If it makes you feel better," Kakashi interrupted, sounding almost cheerful, "none of us have the clearance to be on this mission."

Jiraiya nearly gaped at the jonin. You're fucking kidding me.

Naruto pointed wildly at Kakashi, reaching over Sasuke to do so. "You too?!"

Jiraiya's muscles tensed as Sasuke suddenly shifted. Try anything, and I'll fucking kill you, Uchiha.

But the boy was only moving away from Naruto's outstretched arm, his face twisting into a scowl. "Watch it, loser."

Naruto froze then, blinking his eyes rapidly at Sasuke. Then he took a large step back from the Uchiha (finally, Jiraiya thought with a soft sigh of relief), a huge grin rupturing across his face. "Ha!" He pointed at Sasuke, triumphant. "You talked to me!"

Sasuke's jaw jumped. He looked over at Jiraiya.

"Holy crap," Naruto laughed, folding his arms behind his head. "I win!"

Jiraiya watched a vein bulge on the side of Sasuke's neck. "Shut up, idiot," Sasuke growled, crossing his arms. "It wasn't a fucking competition."

"Yeah? Then how come I won?"

"Won what? There wasn't anything —"

"You're just mad because you lost and I —"

"I didn't lose, you moron —"

"Hey! Who the hell are you calling a moron, bastard —"

Jiraiya frowned, his eyes darting between the two boys as they began arguing. The conflict was ridiculous, plainly, the exact sort of thing he expected Naruto to get himself involved in, in fact. It was a talent of the blond's: he got under people's skin, drilling deeper and deeper until he drove even the calmest person into a sudden, explosive rage. Jiraiya had seen it happen multiple times, so why he thought Sasuke Uchiha would've been an exception to the rule, he wasn't entirely sure.

Though, he supposed that wasn't explicitly true: he did know why. In all honesty, he had thought this type of behavior was beyond the Uchiha, didn't think Sasuke was truly even capable of engaging in such an absurd altercation. But here he was. Actually arguing with Naruto over...nothing.

I ought to stop them, Jiraiya thought dimly. Should probably step in before it gets too heated. He didn't move.

Kakashi started ambling towards him, leaving Naruto and Sasuke to bicker amongst themselves. The jonin placed a hand on Jiraiya's shoulder when he reached him, patted it empathetically. "Teenagers, right?"

Jiraiya scrubbed a hand hard against his face, almost convinced he was imagining the scene unfolding in front of him. Because there was no way that someone like Sasuke Uchiha would be childish enough to partake in such a pointless, nonsensical dispute; it was impossible.

When he looked back up, though, Naruto and Sasuke were still there, still yelling at each other about who the hell knew what.

"What the fuck," Jiraiya muttered.

Kakashi only smiled at him. "I told you, Sasuke's still just a kid." He tilted his head towards the Uchiha. "Talking to Naruto might be good for him. It's been awhile since he interacted with anyone his own age."

Jiraiya watched Sasuke leer at the blond. "Holy shit, are you capable of forming a single coherent thought?"

Naruto spluttered, getting right in Sasuke's face. "You're such a prick —"

Jiraiya narrowed his eyes at the jonin. "Yeah, sounds like they're getting on fantastically." Without entirely realizing it, he'd started tapping his fingers against the fabric of his pants in an erratic, anxious rhythm. "We should stop them."

"They're fine," Kakashi waved Jiraiya's concern away with a flick of his wrist. "Sasuke's not going to do anything. And Naruto's certainly capable of taking care of himself."

I'm sure you believe that. Jiraiya peered at Kakashi from the corner of his eye, his lips pursed. "Listen," he started, "Just because —"

"You piece of shit! Are you seriously saying —"

Jiraiya glanced over at the sound of Naruto's voice, losing his train of thought for a moment. The two boys hadn't moved, though, were still just standing across from each other and flinging insults.

He dragged his attention back to Kakashi, continued with the point he'd been making. "I know you think you know this kid, especially after your little fraternization session," he couldn't keep the bitterness from creeping into his voice at the memory of it, "but it's dangerous to trust him."

Kakashi nodded absently. His eyes were trained on Sasuke. "You see it though, right?"

Jiraiya looked back over at the Uchiha. "See what?" The boy still had his arms crossed, glaring at Naruto as the blond bitched at him. He didn't appear to be paying Jiraiya or Kakashi any mind, his focus entirely aimed at Naruto. His body was tensed, coiled, but he didn't make any move to attack Naruto, not even when the blond petulantly moved closer to him, invading his space and yelling at an ungodly decibel.

And Jiraiya suddenly knew what Kakashi meant.

He's just a kid.

Jiraiya sighed, a sharp tightness settling in his throat. "I'm helping him, aren't I?" he muttered. "Doesn't mean I have to trust him."

"No, I guess you don't," Kakashi allowed.

They continued to watch Naruto and Sasuke in a morose silence. And that was when Jiraiya knew he had to be going crazy because, as he stood there, thinking about what Kakashi had said, he realized that the jonin's words were actually starting to make sense.

He knew, logically, that he should be worried about Naruto, that he should act as if Sasuke intended to attack him the moment the Uchiha gained a substantial enough opening to do so. Because Sasuke was the enemy. He had always been the enemy. But the longer he watched the two boys argue, the less concerned he felt. And that initial thought, the one that made him agree to help the Uchiha in the first place, came back tenfold, infiltrating his very being until it beat in conjunction with his heart, expanded along with his lungs. It consumed him entirely, eating away at his fear and suspicion until a gaping uncertainty was the only thing left behind.

Maybe he's not really a monster. Maybe Danzo just convinced me he is.

Jiraiya had always believed himself to be above Danzo's tactics. He knew the man well enough, he thought, to be able to see through his manipulations and schemes, to be able to keep himself from becoming entrapped by his twisted ideals. But maybe he was just overconfident — that had always been his problem when it came to Danzo, hadn't it? That he somehow thought he could one-up the man, could subtly persuade him away from his more perverse plans. Jiraiya thought he had control, but perhaps that had all just been a comforting delusion. Because here he was, looking at a boy who he'd been so convinced was dangerous, and he was staring to have a hard time seeing it. Even thinking back to the stunt Sasuke had pulled with Kakashi — Sasuke had only answered a question, really, had even waited for Kakashi to ask him directly before revealing anything. It wasn't an innocent act, but it was hardly the ground-breaking, world-ending treachery Jiraiya had come to think the Uchiha was capable of.

And that, overall, seemed to be the heart of the problem. Because Jiraiya was starting to realize that, the more time he spent around Sasuke, the less convinced he was that the boy posed any real threat to the Leaf. It was becoming an effort to constantly be suspicious of the boy and his actions, to constantly tell himself that Sasuke was planning something, that he had to be.

But perhaps Sasuke wasn't — perhaps he was just a young shinobi who desperately wanted to find his brother. Maybe all the years Danzo had spent vilifying Sasuke had been nothing more than another one of the man's schemes; he wanted Sasuke to be dangerous, and so he spoke it into existence, acted as if it was an undebatable fact until the very shape of reality bent to his will, everyone around him soon convinced that it was the truth of the matter. And Jiraiya had been stupid and naive enough to play right into his plan, just like he did with the massacre in the first place.

The disgust made his stomach roll.

He watched as Sasuke rubbed a knuckle against his probably throbbing temple. Naruto was still yelling, hurling an impressively unconventional list of insults at him.

Jiraiya didn't turn to look at Kakashi. His voice sounded hollow when he spoke. "You trust him?"

Kakashi's answer was immediate. "He's my student."

"He was your student," Jiraiya corrected, not for the first time. But the jonin only shook his head.

"It's been a few years, but he still is," he insisted. "And I trust him."

A dull ache spread through Jiraiya's jaw as he clenched his teeth. He suddenly wished he could see Sasuke as Kakashi did, wished his perception of the boy hadn't been tainted so thoroughly by Danzo. Because he couldn't tell whether Sasuke was a threat anymore, not really. He was second guessing himself, second guessing every single assumption he'd made about the child. The axis his reality revolved around had shifted entirely, leaving him unbalanced and unsure. He wasn't sure who to believe, not anymore — hell, he wasn't even sure if he could believe his own intuition, not with this. And who was there left to trust if not himself?

There was a correct answer, he knew. I should trust my Kage. My village. It's what Danzo would've wanted him to do.

The mere thought made him sick. "Okay."

Kakashi looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "Okay?"

"You care about Naruto," he said, the words falling stiffly from his mouth. But he forced them out, forced himself to concede this point despite how desperately every instinct in his body told him not to. "And you trust Sasuke to be around him. So I'm going to defer to your judgement." He eyed Kakashi, made sure the jonin understood the gravity of what he was doing, the trust he was placing in him. "I hope I don't learn to regret that decision."

Kakashi met his gaze stoically. He gave him a single, grateful nod. "I hope you don't, either."

Jiraiya took a breath, cupped his hands around his mouth. "Hey!" Both boys turned to him. Naruto had his hands clenched into fists, his face red and fuming. Sasuke, meanwhile, jerked back harshly at the sound of Jiraiya's voice, his fingers immediately reaching towards his sword.

Jiraiya felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through his veins. Sasuke's fingertips brushed against the hilt, and Kakashi's voice rang hollowly in Jiraiya's ears: I trust him.

Sasuke moved his hand away from the weapon, forced it down by his side. He turned his palms out once more.

The breath that left Jiraiya's lungs was shaky, uneven.

He was acting exactly how Danzo wanted him to, treating Sasuke like a criminal, like a threat. Jiraiya had dehumanized the Uchiha with a surprising amount of ease — he was behaving as if Sasuke was the one who had done something wrong, was the one who had torn his own life to shreds and abandoned the Leaf. But Sasuke's treachery was a simple illusion, an easy way for Danzo to dispel the blame away from himself. The boy wasn't dangerous.

He's just a kid.

Jiraiya locked eyes with the Uchiha.

I won't let Danzo have his way. Not with this.

Jiraiya took a few steps backwards. "C'mon, you two," he made himself turn around, motioned them all to follow him with a wave of his arm. This is the right thing to do. You're doing the right thing, Jiraiya. "We have places to be. You can yell at each other on the way."

Sasuke's just a kid. He's just a kid.

Jiraiya tried not focus on the anxiety that settled over his body, bristling with every step he took, driving deep into his bones.

He's just a kid.

• • •

Kakashi

Team 7 had been together for less than a year before the boy pretending to be Sasuke Uchiha was taken by Orochimaru. It hadn't been the best team — they weren't the most skilled genin, or the smartest, and they even ended up earning the honorable distinction of having the worst mission success rate out of all the rookies. But they had gotten along, worked reasonably well together. And Kakashi had admittedly enjoyed teaching them on some occasions, even given the madness of a fake Sasuke Uchiha. He had started to take pride in being their sensei, had started putting more thought into the lessons he was teaching them, the shape their future careers would take.

He almost, dare he say, started to like them.

But although he had acquired a certain fondness for his team, he couldn't help but wonder what Team 7 would've been like had Sasuke himself been there. He'd sometimes tried to picture it while he trained the three genin, imagining how the irritable brat at the hideout might've fit in with Naruto and Sakura. He figured both would've gotten on Sasuke's nerves, at least at first; but he thought that they would've grown on the Uchiha, just as they'd grown on Kakashi. They would've torn right past Sasuke's thorny demeanor, would've drowned him in warm devotion. Knowing Sasuke, he'd have resisted their attempts to get close to him, would've fought against it every step of the way. But Naruto and Sakura would've gotten through to him eventually, Kakashi was sure of it. And then maybe everything would have been different.

But, despite how certain he was that Sasuke would've benefited from being on Team 7, he hadn't ever been able to properly decide whether the three of them actually would've made a good team. Now, though, he'd spent miles watching Sasuke and Naruto interact. And he was beginning to think that he finally knew the answer.

They wouldn't have made a good team at all; they would've been absolutely, unequivocally, fucking unbearable to deal with.

"Wanting to become the Hokage isn't stupid, asshole, it's —"

Kakashi sighed, shifting his bag against his back as he tried to block out the boys' quarreling. While he'd originally been content with Jiraiya's decision to let Naruto and Sasuke talk to each other, Kakashi was finding himself almost yearning for the time when Jiraiya was intent on keeping them separated.

It had just been so much...quieter.

Jiraiya was a few steps ahead of Kakashi. He didn't appear to be paying attention to Naruto and Sasuke, but Kakashi was sure he was listening closely, waiting to hear signs of an actual conflict. Why the Sannin had started trying so hard to pretend that he wasn't still overly suspicious of Sasuke, Kakashi wasn't sure. But he found himself appreciating the man's effort for Sasuke's sake.

Though, not so much at the moment, given that both Sasuke and Naruto were in the process of making his ears bleed.

It's just for the meantime, he reminded himself. Once we reach the Land of Lightning, I'll never have to listen to them whine at each other again.

The notion, surprisingly, didn't bring him as much comfort as he thought it would.

Jiraiya suddenly held up a hand, signaling for them to stop. Kakashi copied the gesture automatically. From behind him, Naruto and Sasuke's bickering to came to an abrupt, blissful pause.

Fucking finally.

Kakashi watched the Sannin attentively as he looked to the side, nodding silently to himself.

"Alright," Jiraiya said, turning to address them. He motioned towards Naruto and Sasuke, urging them closer. "We're going to start heading towards the coast, now. It's not a heavily populated area, but you all need to stay alert. We won't have as much cover, and all it takes is one wrong person seeing us." Jiraiya looked at each of them in turn, making sure they understood the severity of the situation.

Once he was satisfied, he took a breath. "Before we go, though, I'm going to need to ask you all a favor." His expression sobered even further. "It's imperative for the success of this mission."

The three of them remained silent as Jiraiya paused, pursing his lips. Eventually, the Sannin held his hands out, palms facing towards the sky. He gave them all a sheepish grin.

"I need some money."

Silence.

And then Naruto was moving, rushing behind Kakashi and Sasuke with a hand wrapped protectively around his jacket pocket. "No! No, no, no, no —"

Jiraiya rolled his eyes, evidently not surprised by the blond's reaction. "It's for the mission, Naruto."

"No!" Naruto put his hand out to ward Jiraiya off, an extra layer of protection if Kakashi and Sasuke's bodies didn't prove to be enough of a deterrent for the Sannin. "You do this every time!"

Jiraiya sniffed, looking almost insulted. "I do not."

"Yes, you do!" Naruto insisted. "You take Froggy saying it's for the mission," Naruto pitched his voice comically low, mimicking Jiraiya's voice horrendously, "and then you go spend all my money on drinks and women!"

Kakashi watched as Sasuke's brow furrowed. The boy looked back at Naruto. "What the hell is 'Froggy'?"

Naruto reached into his pocket immediately and pulled out a large green frog wallet. He waved it in Sasuke's face. "This is Froggy! And the Pervy Sage always —"

Kakashi saw Sasuke's fingers twitch. Before he fully realized what Sasuke intended on doing, the boy was already reaching forward and plucking Froggy right out of Naruto's outstretched hand, flinging it back to Jiraiya in one smooth motion.

Kakashi stood very, very still. Because if he moved, he was positive he wouldn't be able to stop himself from laughing.

He watched as Naruto stared at his empty hand, blinking down at it stupidly. Then his jaw dropped. "You asshole!" Naruto flailed. "What the hell did you do that for?"

Instead of answering, Sasuke turned back to Jiraiya. "Is that enough?"

Jiraiya was already poking through the wallet, shifting through the coins with his fingertips. "Should be," he confirmed. Naruto started yelling louder as Jiraiya pocketed the frog, but the Sannin only gave Naruto a solemn nod. "Froggy's sacrifice will not be forgotten," he promised.

Naruto seethed. "You're not even going to take any money from the bastard or Kakashi Sensei? How's that fair?!"

Without so much as a second thought, Kakashi reached into his own pocket and grabbed his coin pouch, throwing it over to Jiraiya. Whether Jiraiya really needed it or not, no amount of money was worth listening to Naruto complain for the rest of the trip.

Jiraiya caught it in his hand deftly, nodding his head in thanks. Naruto seemed mildly pleased by Kakashi's relinquishment, but he quickly turned to Sasuke, glaring daggers at the boy. "Well, bastard? What about you?"

Sasuke only shrugged. "I don't have any money."

"Yeah, right!" Naruto growled, lunging straight for Sasuke's pockets.

If the slight widening of his eyes were any indication, Sasuke had hardly predicted the blond's bold ambush. He barely had time to slam a hand flat against Naruto's shoulder in a last-ditch attempt to keep the blond away from him.

"What the fuck are you doing, you moron?" he snarled.

Naruto twisted, forcing Sasuke to fling an elbow out. The blond's cheek was pressed hard against Sasuke's forearm as the blond strained against his hold. "Taking your money!"

Kakashi saw Sasuke's eyes flare red. The Sharingan. "I don't have any —"

"Okay, break it up." Kakashi stuck an arm between them, using his body to force the boys away from each other. Sasuke immediately let Naruto go and backed away, a smug smirk gracing his features.

"You dick —" Kakashi turned and grabbed Naruto just as he tried to charge Sasuke again. His heels dragged on the ground as Kakashi forced him a few steps back.

Naruto was beet red when he looked at Kakashi. He pointed at Sasuke, livid. "He started it —"

"I know," Kakashi placated. He heard Sasuke start to move behind him.

"Why does he have to be such an asshole?" Naruto yelled the last word, looking over Kakashi's shoulder to make sure Sasuke heard him.

Kakashi rolled his eyes. "Just deal with it for the rest of the mission, alright? Then you never have to see him again."

Naruto muttered under his breath, but he relaxed slightly under Kakashi's grip.

"Good," Kakashi commended, letting the blond go. Naruto's only response was to peevishly cross his arms and start muttering louder.

You'll live, he thought drolly.

Kakashi turned back around, expecting to see both Sasuke and Jiraiya watching him with that odd air of impatience they'd both started exhibiting the longer the trip dragged on. But, to his surprise, Jiraiya and Sasuke were actually talking, Jiraiya pointing a finger towards something in the distance while Sasuke listened patiently to whatever it was the man was explaining to him.

Kakashi nearly stumbled as the shock pulsed through him. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen Jiraiya and Sasuke speak before. In fact, it had happened plenty of times. But Jiraiya was usually visibly irritated during those discussions, the energy rolling off him in sharp waves. Now, though, the Sannin didn't look at all annoyed, didn't even appear mildly displeased.

Which, some might say, was progress.

Kakashi fought to regain his composure, walking up to them slowly. He didn't particularly want to interrupt their conversation, but he was also vaguely curious as to what the hell they could possibly be discussing that had the Sannin so relaxed. Naruto followed him reluctantly, dragging his feet.

By the time they both reached them, Sasuke was pulling a face, peering at Jiraiya dubiously. "We're using a boat?" the Uchiha asked.

Kakashi stopped. That's not what I expected. "What's happening, now?"

Jiraiya turned to him with a pleased grin, patting the money in his pocket. "I'm getting us a boat."

Naruto squinted at the Sannin. "You're using my money to buy a boat?"

"I'm using your money to pay someone to let us borrow a boat," Jiraiya corrected. "We're going to need it to sail over to the Land of Lightning."

Kakashi angled his head, considering the Sannin. "You want to travel alongside the shipping lanes?"

Jiraiya shook his head. "We're going straight through the Sangoku Bay."

Kakashi kept his face carefully composed as he stared at the man. The Sangoku Bay was certainly an...unconventional way to get to the Land of Lightning, to say the least. The easiest path by far was to through the Land of Frost, but if Jiraiya was intent on getting there a different way, going through the Sangoku Bay was hardly the next best option. Its waters were notoriously rough to sail on, most people foregoing it completely in favor of looping around the nearby islands to the Chigiri Sea. Though, Kakashi supposed that the bay's remoteness was exactly what made it so appealing to Jiraiya.

The Sannin looked down at Sasuke, continuing his explanation. "Last I heard, your brother is still on the coast." Jiraiya drew his hand forward in a long, smooth motion. "We should be able to sail right up to him from the bay."

Sasuke shifted his weight between his feet, looking blankly into the distance with his arms crossed tightly against his chest. His fingers dug hard into the fabric of his shirt.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. He looks nervous.

Jiraiya seemed to notice the sudden shift in Sasuke's demeanor as well. The Sannin bared his teeth in a wide grin. "Don't tell me," he said, the amusement clear in his voice. "Are you afraid to get on a boat, Uchiha?"

The scowl was immediate, as was the glare Sasuke aimed at Jiraiya. "I'm not afraid," he muttered, practically spitting the words out.

Jiraiya looked terribly smug. "Of course you're not."

"Wait, wait," Naruto sniggered. "The bastard's afraid of water?"

Sasuke's jaw jumped. "I'm not afraid," he repeated, his teeth clenched.

Naruto howled. "Holy shit!" The blond keeled over, gripping at his side as he cackled. "You're afraid of water!"

A light tint of pink creeped across Sasuke's cheeks. "Shut. Up."

Kakashi almost felt bad for Sasuke. Almost. But it was also undeniably comical to find out the bristling Uchiha had a water phobia.

He reached out and and gave the boy a consolatory pat on the shoulder, nonetheless, figuring he ought to offer him some sort of comfort.

When Sasuke glared up at him, he looked absolutely murderous. Kakashi just gave the boy a smile. "It'll be fine," he reassured him.

Sasuke pushed his hand away with a wordless snarl, his face reddening further. "I'm not —"

Kakashi held his hands up in mock surrender. "Sure, sure, whatever you say."

Naruto was nearly on his knees, still squawking with laughter. "He's — he's — holy crap!"

Kakashi bit back a laugh when he realized Sasuke was very nearly pouting. The boy leveled a final glare at Naruto before walking away. "Whatever," he muttered. "Let's just get this fucking over with."

• • •

The deal took place in a shop right off the bay. Jiraiya left them at dusk to go complete the transaction, promising he'd be back to collect them in a few hours. The plan was to set off in the middle of the night, using the darkness for cover as they got as far away from the coast as possible. In the meantime, Jiraiya told them to get some rest; they'd easily be sailing until dawn.

Once Jiraiya left, the three of them settled down in a small, gloomy clearing. The space was cramped, and they had to hunch over to keep their heads from bobbing above the bushes encircling them, but at least it kept them out of sight.

Kakashi had told Sasuke and Naruto that they were free to get some sleep, offering to keep watch himself until Jiraiya came back. Naruto had eagerly jumped at the opportunity, throwing himself down on the soft patch of grass beneath him and nearly kicking Sasuke and Kakashi in the process. He'd fallen asleep in a matter of minutes. But Sasuke, on the other hand, didn't move. He remained upright, staring impassively at the empty space between them.

Sasuke and Kakashi didn't talk at first. They merely sat across from each other, Kakashi watching as Sasuke aimlessly picked at the grass in front of him. But then an hour passed. And Kakashi let his curiosity get the better of him. "Are you really worried about the boat?"

Sasuke froze, a single strand of grass trapped between the pads of his fingertips. Then he pulled at it hard, tearing it from the ground. "No."

Liar. He knew pressing Sasuke for more information would get him nowhere, though. So he kept his silence, let the sound of chirping crickets fill the space between them.

Minutes passed. And then Sasuke spoke.

"I almost drowned when I was six." The confession was soft. A mere whisper on the breeze. Sasuke had his eyes trained on the ground, avoiding Kakashi's gaze resolutely.

Kakashi said nothing. Only waited.

Sasuke eventually continued. "We had a river by the compound. The Naka." A bug flew near Sasuke's face, and he mindlessly swatted it away. "I went swimming with Itachi and my cousin. I didn't go too far out, just stayed by the dock. Itachi thought it was safer." He stopped suddenly, started tugging at the grass again.

The silence grew around them, warm and suffocating. Kakashi nearly thought Sasuke was going to leave his story at that, was going to refuse to tell him anything more than he already had.

But then, once again, Sasuke's voice broke through the quiet air, stilted and halting. "I went underwater. My leg got caught on a rope." He moved his finger in a small, circular motion. "Just looped around my ankle. Scared the shit out of me." Sasuke bit at his lip, tapped his fingers against his knee. "It would've been fine if I didn't struggle. Could've just slipped it right off, probably." His fingers stilled. "But I struggled. And it just wrapped tighter around my leg, dragged me down farther." He took a deep breath. "My chest felt like it was on fire."

When Sasuke didn't immediately continue, Kakashi felt the need to ask. "Did Itachi get you out?"

Sasuke didn't react at first. Kakashi almost thought the boy was going to ignore him, but soon he was moving, shaking his head side to side robotically. "I got the rope off, came up gasping for air." He let out a sardonic laugh, then, the sound rough and unsettling in the small clearing. "Itachi and my cousin were out near the middle of the river, didn't even notice anything was wrong, apparently. So I got out." Sasuke shrugged. "It took Itachi a few minutes, but he eventually realized I was gone. Lost his shit a bit. I told him I just got cold and didn't want to swim anymore."

From the corner of his eye, Kakashi saw Naruto shift slightly. He watched the blond for a moment, saw that his breathing had shifted away from the deep, easy rhythm it had adopted in his sleep.

"It's stupid," Sasuke said, clearly not realizing Naruto was no longer asleep. "It was almost a decade ago. And it's not like I can't swim now." He rubbed a hand over his face, took in a low, shallow breath. "But I can still feel my lungs burning."

Crickets. Kakashi felt like he should say something, felt like he should offer Sasuke something in return for his honesty.

His mouth was dry when he spoke. "You're not going to drown," he said, forcing the words out. "I'll make sure of it."

He felt himself cringe as the words floated off into the air. That was a dumb thing to say. Kakashi half expected Sasuke to level a glare at him, to shrug the moment off with a smirk and a scathing remark.

But Sasuke just tilted his head up, his gaze subdued, somber. "Yeah?"

Kakashi swallowed. "Yeah."

He wasn't sure what he wanted Sasuke to say next. But he realized he was disappointed when Sasuke just nodded and looked back at the ground.

Another hour passed. Naruto, to his benefit, didn't move at all, feigning sleep as a choking oppression crowded the space around them. Kakashi didn't speak again, and neither did Sasuke. They simply sat. Waiting.

Eventually, Jiraiya returned. The Sannin was grinning as he stepped through the bushes, not at all suspecting that anything significant had transpired between them while he was gone. He had Naruto's empty wallet clutched in his hand, and he unceremoniously dropped it on the blond's prone form.

"Froggy has my thanks," he said as Naruto twisted around to glare at him. The blond muttered under his breath, grabbing at his wallet and shoving it back into his pocket.

Jiraiya chuckled before regarding Sasuke and Kakashi. "You ready to head out?"

No. Kakashi dragged his gaze over Sasuke's bowed head before meeting Jiraiya's gaze. "Yeah," he said, his throat thick. "Let's go."

• • •

Itachi

Itachi didn't know at what point he'd fallen asleep last night. He didn't remember closing his eyes, didn't remember his spiraling thoughts coming to a careful, careful stop, succumbing to the hazy exhaustion coating his mind. He'd obviously slept at some point, though, because, last he could recall, his tent had been dark, everything wrapped in thick, shadowy tendrils. But when he snapped his eyes open now, his body jerking at a sudden sound in front of him, his eyes were greeted by sharp, blinding sunlight.

He blinked against the brightness as Aoi's voice slowly drifted towards him. "You might want to push the meeting with the quadrant leaders. Iwao isn't —" Aoi's footsteps came to a halt. "Were you sleeping?"

Itachi didn't answer immediately, his eyes lazily following the mottled patterns of sunshine writhing on the ground. The light seeping into the tent was too intense for it to still be morning. And a thick heat had already settled in the air, so it was safe to assume it had been hours since the sun had come up. Meaning he'd somehow managed to sleep well into the afternoon.

A vague memory of Shisui's voice echoed through his skull: you overslept, genius.

Itachi flung himself up and looked at Aoi, his eyes wide. The man had four long scrolls cradled in his arms, his lips curling into an amused smile as he regarded Itachi.

"Shit," Itachi breathed.

Aoi raised a brow. "And here I thought you skipped breakfast to get work done," he teased.

Shit, shit. Itachi couldn't even remember the last time he'd overslept. He dragged a tired hand over his face. "I meant to help with rounds this morning."

"You can always join the night shift instead," Aoi assured him, moving over to take a seat in front of Itachi's bedroll. "It's not like the lookouts are expecting you to go with them, anyway. They know you have other, far more pressing matters to deal with." He let the scrolls roll to the ground as he gave Itachi a dry smile. "Like the meeting today."

Itachi looked down. Right. There's a meeting.

He rubbed at his eyes, forced his tired mind to consider the scrolls. Meeting, meeting, meeting. The three closest to him were relatively thin — a good sign, all things considered. The fourth, however, was huge. Laid out, Itachi imagined that he probably could've looped it around the outside of his tent at least three or four times.

He indicated it with a wave of his hand as he tried to hold back a yawn. "I'm assuming that's the eastern quadrant's?"

Aoi grimaced. "Iwao has a lot he wants to talk about, apparently." He pushed the scroll closer to Itachi. "Though he'll hardly be able to complain about anything if he doesn't show the hell up," he grumbled, seemingly as an afterthought.

Itachi didn't reach for it. "He went out this morning?"

Aoi nodded. "Took four people and went hunting, according to Akemi. Said he wouldn't be back until dusk. She asked me to send you her apologies for his delay, by the way."

An image of the mousy brunette flashed in his mind. Akemi. From the Hidden Grass Village. "Did she seem okay?"

"Her jaw was bruised. I couldn't see any other injuries, though — Iwao still makes her wear all those clothes." Aoi leaned back with a frown. "How she doesn't pass out in this heat is beyond me."

Itachi hummed. "And the other wives?"

Aoi's lips tightened into a thin line. "I saw Hiromi on my way out. She seemed fine." His fingers dug into the ground. "The other three weren't there."

Meaning you didn't get to see Sayuri. "Might be a good sign. Could mean they're out and about."

"Yeah, or they're lying in a ditch somewhere," he muttered. "I still don't get how you're alright with that bastard leading an entire quadrant of the camp."

The answer to that, of course, was simple — he wasn't at all alright with it. Not in the slightest. Iwao had hardly been his first choice for the position, probably wouldn't have even been his second choice, if he was being honest, but his hands were tied. "The eastern quadrant voted for him. I had no say in the decision."

Having this conversation with Aoi was nothing new to Itachi, so he wasn't at all surprised by the man's response: "But you could've. You're the one who created this damn thing; no one would've even questioned if you —"

Itachi kept his tone patient, understanding. "I'm not here to be a dictator, Aoi."

Aoi rubbed his hands hard against his face, took a breath. "I know, I know." He sighed. "I just fucking hate him."

A valid judgement, really, Itachi thought dully. He tapped his fingers against his leg. "When are the other leaders supposed to arrive?"

"Not for a few hours." Aoi leaned his head against his hand. "I can go and tell them the meeting's been postponed, if you want."

Itachi looked back at the east's scroll. The idea of delaying the meeting was hardly palatable. Really, Itachi didn't think that it was even a viable option, not if he didn't want to damage his own authority within the camp. He tried to be accommodating when it came to the quadrant leaders and their needs, but he couldn't defer to them completely. That would be akin to suicide.

"No," he eventually decided, pulling the other three scrolls back towards him. "We'll have the meeting at the scheduled time."

Aoi's brow furrowed as Itachi picked up one of the documents. "Without Iwao?"

Itachi shrugged. "They've all known about the meeting for a week," he pointed out. "Iwao should've saved the hunting trip for another day if he wanted to be part of it."

Aoi started to grin. "As your advisor, I think that sounds like a rather fair decision." He picked up the large scroll, motioning towards the side of Itachi's tent. "Should I put this aside?"

Itachi peeled the report he was holding open. Ko Ose's signature adorned the top corner. The northern quadrant. "If you would."

"Gladly." Aoi stood up, walking over to the far side of the tent before unceremoniously dumping Iwao's scroll onto the ground.

He looked rather smug when he turned back to Itachi. "He's going to be so mad."

"I suppose," Itachi acknowledged, trying to sound nonchalant about the prospect. It's his own fault, either way, Itachi told himself.

There was a muffled laugh from across the tent. "Well, if that's all," Aoi said, "I'll leave you to review the scrolls."

Itachi nodded, his gaze trained on Ko's report. "Thank you."

"Of course."

Aoi shuffled over to the opening of his tent quietly, a wash of bright light pouring onto the floor as he peeled back the tent flap. The light soon disappeared.

And Itachi was alone.

• • •

Meetings with the quadrant leaders were an event, to say the least — they weren't always good, but they certainly never failed to be interesting.

Chiasa Fukada consistently showed up first. She arrived at his tent now in a whirl of shimmering fabric and jewels, an intricate fan held delicately between her fingers. Her lips were colored a deep shade of red — apparently, she kept vials of blood from every person she'd killed, pulled one out everyday to dab onto her lips. Or so the rumors claimed. The rumors also claimed her to be the descendant of a feudal lord, the daughter of a distant cousin who had been banished to wander the shinobi continent without the benefit of her family's wealth. She had no allegiance to any village, less a rogue and more a nomad. But she had a reputation, clearly: her election as the leader of the western quadrant had practically been unanimous.

"Itachi," she greeted, folding her fan with a quick flick of her wrist. She glanced around the expanse of the tent as she tucked it into the tight band wrapped around her torso. "I see I'm the first to arrive. As usual."

Itachi had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. More like you're early, as usual.

He plastered a subdued smile on his face. "Nice to see you as always, Chiasa. The others should be here shortly." A large map was spread in front of where he sat on the floor. He motioned towards the empty space next to it. "You're free to join me here while we wait for them."

Chiasa strode over to him, her ruby lips pulling back into a pleased smile as she caught sight of the map's contents. "You're still getting good use out of my map, I see," she said as she sat beside him, the fabric of her dress splaying against the ground.

"It's a beautiful depiction of the camp," Itachi told her as she settled onto the floor. "The detail you put into it is incredible."

Chiasa's smile widened at the praise. "It's a bit outdated now, though, I'm afraid." She tapped the paper delicately with her finger. "I'll draw you a new one soon," she promised.

"That would be greatly appreciated, thank you."

"Of course. I'll send my men out tonight to start surveying. I can probably —"

A piercing voice sliced through the air. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Chiasa paused, looked towards the entrance of the tent. All was quiet for a moment.

The voice soon returned, biting through the air with a familiar ferocity. "I swear to every fucking god that any of you assholes have ever fucking prayed to. It's a fucking horse. Deal with the problem yourselves."

Chiasa sighed then, pinched the bridge of her nose. "She's early," she mumbled, sounding greatly displeased by the fact.

Ko Ose flung herself into the tent a moment later. She was muttering under her breath, flooding the air with a mixture of curses and insults. "Morons," she growled as she threw herself down next to Itachi. She didn't even look up at him, just glared at the map petulantly. "Hey, Itachi."

The smile came naturally. Ko was a slight, tiny thing from the Sand Village. Apparently she was the same age as Itachi, though she hardly looked older than 16.

She had one of the largest kill counts out of any shinobi that had joined the camp.

"Ko," he greeted. "Is there a problem?"

She shook her head, still seething. "No, my lieutenants are just idiots. Can't tell a horse's ass from its head, apparently." She peered over at him, then. "How much do you know about horses, Itachi?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Not much, unfortunately."

Ko pursed her lips, turned to look at Chiasa. "I can't imagine your majesty here knows anything about horses, either?"

Chiasa frowned. "I know plenty about horses, brat." She crossed her arms. "Not that I would ever consider helping the likes of you with such a matter."

"No?" Ko tilted her head to the side, smirking. "Not even if it was for Aki?"

The blush that spread across Chiasa's face was immediate. "You prying little bitch," she breathed.

Ko only laughed at her. "Don't sleep with my fucking lieutenants, then, if you're so —"

"Damn, am I late?" Itachi looked up to see Satoru Yoshimura poking his head into the tent. He pushed his glasses up with the back of his hand, regarding them all with an apologetic smile. "And here I thought I was actually early for once."

"You're right on time," Itachi assured him. "We can actually get started now that you're here."

"What about Iwao?" Satoru said, stepping inside the tent.

Itachi shook his head. "He decided to go hunting this morning. He's free to join us if he gets back soon, but I'm not going to wait for him." He regarded them all as Satoru sat down. "I think all of our time is a bit too valuable to waste on appeasing his whims, wouldn't you agree?"

"It's certainly fine with me," Chiasa sniffed, making an effort to collect herself after Ko's taunts. "Let the brute experience some consequences for a change."

"As much as I don't want to agree with the hag," Ko sighed, "I don't particularly give a shit if he's here or not either. Just as long as the concerns of the northern quadrant are taken care of."

Itachi inclined his head towards her. "They will be."

Ko shrugged. "Then I say do it. Fuck him."

Satoru stayed silent for a moment, his lips pursed and a hand on his chin. "Will you meet with him separately?" he asked.

"Not about anything that isn't urgent," Itachi promised.

Satoru bobbed his head, evidently pleased by the answer. "In that case, I'm good with it."

Itachi reached for a scroll. "Let's begin, then."

• • •

Even without the addition of the eastern quadrant's report, the meeting lasted hours. Rogue ninja were, perhaps unsurprisingly, not the most bureaucratically efficient group of people, so the meetings tended to drone on and on, Itachi forced to wade through the bullshit in order to figure out what, exactly, each sector needed.

The western quadrant was in the best shape. That was usually the case, though. Itachi had come to find that Chiasa kept a vigilant eye on the people under her watch, managing them with a surprising amount of ease and comfort. She always seemed to have enough supplies, enough food, enough medicine. Itachi wasn't entirely sure how she was accomplishing that particular feat, but he was hardly about to start complaining.

The northern quadrant wasn't doing as well in comparison, but it was still in decent order. The sector had come to house most of the livestock in the camp, so Ko mostly spent her time lamenting their condition, spending nearly an hour outlining everything from their eating habits to proposals for a new pen. Her biggest gripe, however, was that the other quadrants felt entitled to use the animals ("they are entitled to use them," Itachi had reminded her patiently), but evidently felt no responsibility to help care for them in return. The eastern quadrant was, unsurprisingly, the worst offender.

"I get that not everyone has supplies to spare," she'd given Satoru a knowing look, "but you can at least volunteer a bit of fucking labor. Send some morons over to look after the animals for a few fucking hours — my men are tired of being covered in shit all the time, they'd appreciate the fucking break."

It was a fair point. The only reason the northern quadrant had become the animals' keepers was because a large portion of them had the knowledge (and, evidently, the interest) to look after them. However, the animals still collectively belonged to everyone in the camp, so it was only right that the other quadrants should contribute to their care on some level.

Satoru had readily agreed to Ko's request. He had a handful of civilians under his watch that used to be farmers; he promised to send them over to the northern quadrant as soon as the meeting concluded.

Chiasa was a bit more hesitant. She took her time thinking about the logistics of the demand, wondering aloud whether she could reasonably spare the manpower or supplies (she could). But then Ko had reminded her in a sickly sweet drawl that the western quadrant certainly enjoyed borrowing the north's horses ("everyone's horses," Itachi had corrected) to pull its dozens of carriages, and it would be an awful shame if Chiasa had to abandon her precious possessions all because she didn't want to give some horses a few measly apples.

Chiasa had scowled. But she told Ko she'd start setting aside portions of food and water to be delivered to the animals weekly.

With the northern and western quadrant's concerns dealt with, all eyes turned to the representative of the southern quadrant.

Satoru was a meek, kind man. He cared about people, had proven to be incredibly compassionate even when dealing with someone as difficult as Iwao. But he was hardly fit to lead anything, and everyone could see it.

Satoru was the only one of the quadrant leaders who the people hadn't explicitly voted for. He had gotten the role by default — the thirty or so shinobi also vying for the position had made the decision to battle for it on the day of the vote, staging a bloody fight to the death in which the last ninja standing would be crowned the southern quadrant's representative. Satoru, hardly the combative type, had apparently bowed out immediately, never even setting foot on the field.

Ryo Ueda, a bloodthirsty rogue from the Mist, had technically won. The injuries he'd sustained had been severe, however, and he'd died a mere hour after claiming his victory. And so Satoru was the only one left.

Despite the odd circumstances of his appointment, he had done reasonably well with the southern quadrant at first. But as time went on, as he was forced to deal with the leaders of the other quadrants more closely, involve himself in the minutiae of governance, his inadequacies had only become more and more pronounced. He was almost too kind, too compassionate, looking out for the well-being of the entire camp rather than focusing on the specific needs of his own sector. As a result, the southern quadrant constantly had food and supply shortages, was constantly in need of more medicine and tools — it was, without a doubt, the weakest portion of the camp, the most vulnerable.

For all of Satoru's faults, however, he was admittedly skilled at playing on the sympathies of the other quadrants to partially replenish his own wares. He plied Chiasa with compliments, making sure to acknowledge if she had on a new dress or had done something different with her hair, and he spent hours with Ko, helping her at a moment's notice with whatever inane tasks she claimed her lieutenants were too stupid to complete. And so they helped him when they could, giving him what little they could spare. Even Iwao occasionally took pity on Satoru, throwing the southern quadrant a few supplies here and there when Satoru took a few moments to admire Iwao's incredibly strong and competent leadership.

Itachi didn't think it was a sustainable tactic by any means, but the southern quadrant still had yet to revolt completely, had yet to demand a different leader. And so Satoru remained in charge.

"I'll send over a few carriages," Chiasa promised him as the meeting came to an end. "You'll need it once we start traveling again."

Ko peered over at Itachi, her finger dragging along the edge of the map. "Five days until we head out, right?"

Itachi nodded. "We're going to continue straight up the coast."

"Good," Ko sniffed. "I'm so sick of this fucking place."

"Eh, it's not too bad," Satoru said. "The cliffs are kind of scenic. And you get to threaten to throw your lieutenants off them when they piss you off."

Ko started snickering. "I'll admit, that has been really fucking fun."

Chiasa rolled her eyes. "While I would love to sit and discuss the scenery with you all, I do have other matters to attend to." She turned towards Itachi. "Is that all for the meeting, then?"

Itachi nodded. "Unless you have anything else you'd like to discuss."

"Nope!" Ko hauled herself to her feet with a grunt, her joints cracking as she stretched her arms up.

Satoru nodded his head in agreement. "I'm good, too."

"Fantastic." Chiasa rose. "I'll be seeing you all, then."

Ko turned as Chiasa walked out, giving her an overly exaggerated bow. "Lovely to see you as always, your majesty."

Chiasa ignored her entirely as she slipped out of the tent.

Ko grinned. She turned to Satoru, holding a hand out for him to take. "C'mon," she told the man, "I want you to show me these farmers you were talking about."

Satoru smiled up at her, gripping her forearm and hauling himself to his feet. "Your wish is my command, m'lady."

They walked out of the tent, bidding Itachi a quick farewell over their shoulders as their conversation devolved into the specifics of animal care and treatment.

And then all was quiet.

Itachi sat in the silence they left behind, considering the map laid out in front of him. He glanced over at the large scroll still lying untouched against the wall.

Iwao didn't show up, not even at the tail end of the meeting. Itachi assumed that meant he still wasn't back from his hunting trip, since he was certain the man would've wanted to confront Itachi immediately once he realized that the meeting had happened without him.

Serves him right, Itachi thought bitterly. He felt he was walking a fine line between being petulant and being authoritative, but he also couldn't bring himself to particularly care. He couldn't allow Iwao to undermine him, not even slightly; the quadrant heads may have some power, but Itachi still had ultimate authority. He wasn't about to willingly bend to Iwao's whims.

Itachi leaned back and stared at the thin slice of light peeking through the entrance of his tent. The sun was setting, meaning that the scouts for the night would be gathering along the perimeter of the camp soon, getting ready to head out.

I missed rounds this morning — I should go out with them now.

It was the right decision, he knew. The obvious one, really. But he couldn't deny how tired he was, how desperately he wanted to crawl into his bedroll and try to go back to sleep.

But that also meant that Iwao would know exactly where to find him when he came back. And then Itachi would have to deal with his bitching and yelling and though he knew it was his duty to deal with the man, he wasn't at all looking forward to that particular conversation. He sighed.

Iwao or scouting. He had to choose one.

Itachi stared at the shifting light for another moment. Why he was sitting here, acting like it was a hard decision, he wasn't entirely sure.

He pushed himself to his feet — scouting it was.

Sasuke

It took three days of open water sailing before they caught sight of rising cliffs in the distance. According to Jiraiya, the formation was known as the Raikou Crag — one of the Land of Lightning's greatest natural barriers. It was, evidently, the third most dangerous landmark on the continent, the floor beneath it a graveyard of all the broken bodies and ships that had dared to get too close to it. It had taken the lives of hundreds, perhaps even thousands — it was deadly and insurmountable, a truly fantastic force of nature.

And, apparently, a very popular tourist attraction before the Third Shinobi War.

But that was beside the point.

The natural, more pressing question in Sasuke's opinion was how the fuck Jiraiya expected them to get up the Raikou Crag if everything he had said about it was true. They were heading straight towards it, Jiraiya not moving to divert their course in the slightest as they steadily drew closer. Not that Sasuke thought a change in direction would've made much of a difference, though; the cliffs appeared to extend for miles in both directions, the jagged rocks towering well above sea level. There didn't appear to be any way around them, and he idly wondered if the Sannin expected them to climb up it — he wouldn't put it past the man, at this point.

Despite his growing concerns, though, Sasuke didn't question Jiraiya's intentions, kept his doubts entirely to himself. He did this for two main reasons.

One: he knew that Jiraiya would hardly change his plans based on anything Sasuke said, so there was no real point in pressing the man for an explanation.

And two: he was dangerously, dangerously close to throwing up at the moment.

He took a deep breath as the boat rolled underneath him, the nausea churning in his stomach. The sickness had taken a few hours to set in once they'd set sail, but it had been unceasing once it reached him, gripping his insides with a revolting potency that had only grown stronger as the days passed. Naruto had succumbed to it almost immediately, sprawling his body out on the floor of the small boat and hurling into a bucket every few hours. Sasuke had only managed to avoid throwing up so far himself through a mixture of self-inflicted genjutsu and intense concentration. But his tricks were starting to fail, the effects wearing off faster and faster as his nausea grew in intensity. And so he had resorted to sitting by the side of the boat, his eyes trained resolutely on its wooden edge. Because he wouldn't be sick. He wouldn't.

No one bothered him for most of the day. Naruto was too busy being sick himself, Kakashi was doing who the fuck knew what, and Jiraiya was at the back of the boat charting their course. But soon the sun began to set, and a terribly wry, amused voice rose from behind him. "Trying not to throw up is just going to make it worse, you know."

Sasuke didn't move. "Shut up," he growled, his jaw clenched.

He heard Kakashi start to walk towards him. The soft tap of his shoes against the planks made the nausea pulse in his throat. "I'm just saying," Kakashi continued, taking a seat beside him. "It might actually make you feel better."

Sasuke closed his eyes, drew the salty air surrounding him down into his lungs. I'm fine. Just breathe. "Shut. Up."

The boat lurched underneath him, then, throwing him forward against the wooden side. His arms shot out to grip at the edge, his fingers straining as he steadied himself.

"Fuck," he groaned as the boat settled, pressing a clammy hand against his mouth. I'm not going to throw up. I'm not going to throw up.

He could feel Kakashi staring at him. "The genjutsu trick was clever," the jonin remarked eventually, sounding almost vaguely impressed. "Pretty decent way to try and stave off the seasickness."

Sasuke groaned again. He felt his body breakout in a cold sweat as an abrupt lightheadedness flooded through him. "Please stop talking," he begged.

Kakashi ignored him. "I hope you don't mind, but I did borrow it." The man sounded like he was smiling. "It's been working like a charm for me, so I'm inclined to think you did it wrong."

Sasuke made the terrible, terrible mistake of moving his head to the side. He couldn't even claim that the glare he leveled at Kakashi had been worth it. "Are you fucking —" He felt his insides lurch. "Shit." He threw himself over the side of the boat, let his shoulders hang off the edge as the contents of his stomach emptied out into the water.

A warm hand settled on his back. "There, there," Kakashi soothed.

Oh, fuck off. Sasuke continued to retch, coughing pathetically.

He was breathing hard by the time he finished, his head throbbing as he spit out the remnants of vomit left behind in his mouth. His throat still burned when he sat back on his heels and took a deep, deep breath.

Kakashi looked irritatingly pleased with himself when Sasuke looked over at him. "What?" Sasuke grumbled, still mildly nauseous.

"Nothing," Kakashi assured him. He inclined his head to the side, then, motioning towards the cliffs. "We're almost there."

Sasuke turned. The sky had bled into a brilliant collection of pinks and oranges, the face of the Raikou Crag now covered in deep, foreboding shadows. A prickling apprehension settled in his chest.

Finding Itachi had always been the goal. Sasuke knew that he needed to see his brother again, knew that he wouldn't be able to go forward if he didn't at least speak to him. It had always been theoretical, though, a mere hope burning at the back of Sasuke's mind. But now, with the Raikou Crag rising in front of him, the boat inching closer by the minute, the reality of their meeting was beginning to dawn on him.

And he realized he was nervous about it.

Itachi didn't kill my clan.

But he made Sasuke think he did. He'd worked with Danzo to block off that portion of Sasuke's memory, to make it hazy and blurry so that Danzo could reach inside and delicately place his own vision on top of it, could press the false memories into each and every crevice of his brain, could seep the images deep into his mind.

Even with the jutsu now undone, Sasuke could still recall the confabulations with an unsettling amount of clarity. Itachi covered in the blood of his family, the red liquid smeared against his cheek, soaked into his clothes, dripping down his arm. The murderous glint of his eyes, the disdainful sneer he'd aimed at Sasuke as he sobbed over his parents' dead bodies. The way he'd turned to Sasuke, had told him he wasn't even worth killing as his sword grazed over Sasuke's throat.

That wasn't my brother. That wasn't Itachi.

He knew those memories were fake, knew it for a fact. Whatever had happened with Kakashi's Sharingan all those years ago had somehow destroyed them, had glazed them with an unnatural shimmering light that made them easy to identify. He knew none of it was real now. That wasn't the issue.

The issue was that he'd spent years thinking they were real, had lived with the idea of his brother's crimes for so long that he couldn't completely shake the idea that Itachi was dangerous, that he wanted to hurt him.

It was ridiculous, he knew. Itachi had always done his best to look out for him; he'd tried to get him out of the compound that very night, had cried as he cast his jutsu on Sasuke. His brother cared about him — every real memory Sasuke had supported that fact.

Itachi and my cousin were out near the middle of the river, didn't even notice anything was wrong, apparently.

No. Sasuke forced the thought away. His brother cared. Sasuke just had to keep telling himself that.

...and yet.

His brother had left him with Danzo. Hadn't come for him when he'd been taken by Orochimaru. Had marched across the continent with his army when Sasuke disappeared completely.

Itachi hadn't killed the Uchiha clan. But he'd abandoned Sasuke, nonetheless.

A careful hand brushed over his shoulder. "You alright?" Kakashi asked.

Sasuke's mouth had gone dry. "Yeah," he said, his eyes still locked on the cliffs.

I'm sorry Sasuke. I'm so, so sorry.

He swallowed. Itachi cared about him — he did. His brother would be happy to see him, would welcome him with open arms.

And if he doesn't?

He couldn't stop the thought from surfacing, couldn't stop his mind from snagging on it, from revolving around the possibility, spiraling tighter and tighter until it was all he could think about.

And if he doesn't?

And if he doesn't.

Then Sasuke would survive. It would be just one more betrayal he'd learn to swallow past — he'd done it plenty of times before. This would be no different.

That's a lie.

It was. Clearly.

But the thought made him feel a bit better, nonetheless.

• • •

A heavy darkness had settled over them when the boat finally neared the bottom of the crag, the sun's departure seeping even the brightest colors from the sky. The cliffs were a dark smear above them, now, towering and foreboding. Sasuke could barely make out the top of it from where he stood on the boat.

Jiraiya anchored them few miles out, keeping the vessel far away from the rocks. "I can't afford to replace this thing," he admitted with a grimace as he looked at Sasuke, "so I hope you don't mind walking."

Sasuke tried not to look too relieved. Throwing up had admittedly made him feel better, but he was still itching to get off the boat — he'd take walking on the water over sailing another inch in this fucking thing any day.

Naruto groaned behind him, still sprawled out on the deck. "Please don't make me move," he wailed. "I'm going to throw up again if you make me move."

Kakashi glanced at the blond briefly before looking towards the cliffs. "Are we climbing?"

"We aren't doing anything," Jiraiya said, pointing a finger skyward. "There are hundreds of rogue shinobi up there. I'm taking Sasuke while you and Naruto wait here." The Sannin didn't wait for any of them to respond before turning away. "I'll give you a minute to say your goodbyes."

Sasuke stared at the man's retreating back, focusing his energy on keeping himself composed. It was surprisingly hard to stop the grin from spreading across his face, though.

Find a way to bring the Jinchuriki to your brother and his army.

Tobi would be pissed, admittedly. He certainly didn't have enough faith in Sasuke's abilities to trust that his ploy would work when the time came. But Sasuke had soon realized that the probability of getting Naruto close enough to Itachi's army, let alone finding a way to make him stay, was microscopically small. So he found another way, came up with his own contingency plan.

And it seemed like his efforts were going to pay off.

"Should've figured," Kakashi sighed. When Sasuke looked back at the jonin, he saw that the man was holding a hand out towards him. "Guess this is it, kid."

Sasuke paused, stared at the outstretched limb.

He could hardly remember the last time he'd actually said goodbye to someone, especially not when he knew it might possibly be the last time he was going to see them. It felt odd to even be given the opportunity to say anything before he left with Jiraiya, the entire concept of a goodbye having become wholly unnatural to him. After all, he hadn't said goodbye to his parents or Shisui, hadn't said goodbye to Itachi. He hadn't said goodbye to Kakashi the first time, hadn't realized he was going to be dragged off in the middle of the night to be murdered when the man left for the day. And he certainly hadn't breathed a word to Orochimaru before Tobi whisked him away to Kamui's dimension.

He bit at his lip. "Yeah," he said, reaching out to clasp his hand around Kakashi's forearm. "Guess this is it."

Kakashi returned the grip. His grasp was strong, steady. "Take care of yourself, alright?" he said, the skin around his eye creasing as he smiled.

The breath Sasuke pulled into his lungs was surprisingly jagged and uneven; he had to clear his throat before he spoke. "I will," he promised, swallowing hard. "You take care of yourself, too."

Kakashi gave his arm a tight squeeze before letting go. Sasuke had to make his own hand relinquish its hold on Kakashi, his fingers still curled as his arm fell back to his side. The contact had left his skin unbearably hot, made it feel like it was burning from the inside out.

Sasuke nodded to himself, started backing away. He forced himself to say the words; he knew that, despite everything he was planning, despite everything he wanted to do, he would regret it if he didn't. "Bye, Kakashi."

Kakashi angled his head as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Bye, Sasuke."

Turn around now, Sasuke. Walk away.

Naruto's voice rang out through the cool night air. "Hey!"

Sasuke stopped, peered over Kakashi's shoulder to see the blond lifting his shoulders off the deck of the boat, a hand floating in the air. Even in the dark, Naruto looked terribly sick, his skin pallid and gleaming with sweat.

He gave Sasuke a woozy smile. "Bye, bastard."

Something approaching guilt pooled in Sasuke's stomach. "Bye, loser."

Naruto's arm fell limply over his head, the blond groaning as he flattened back against the deck. "Crap, I'm so sick."

Walk away.

But Sasuke found himself pausing at Naruto's comment, the weak sense guilt starting to evaporate. Because while he'd traveled with Naruto, talked with him, eaten with him, Sasuke still had an objective to think about.

Subtlety had been his play for the majority of the trip; with the extra leeway he'd gained over time, he hadn't needed to make any overt action to accomplish his goal. It would be undeniably risky now for him to approach Naruto, to so openly cast a genjutsu on him. But, then again, this was Sasuke's last opportunity to do anything. He wouldn't see Naruto again, not until he returned to the Leaf with Itachi.

Before he could second guess his decision, he strode over to Naruto. "Oi, moron." He knelt beside the blond, jabbing him in the side.

Naruto swatted at him, his eyes still screwed shut. "Don't do that," he muttered.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to help you, idiot. But I need you to look at me." Naruto groaned a protest but he peeked an eye open, squinting at Sasuke.

It was enough.

His eyes stung as he let his Sharingan spin to life. He surged his chakra into it, carefully manipulating the chakra flow in Naruto's own brain.

Just slightly. Nothing too obvious.

He let his Sharingan fade when he was satisfied, rising back to his feet.

Naruto was still lying on the deck, dazed as he blinked up at him. "Holy crap," the blond whispered. It took a moment, but soon he was sitting up, looking around wildly. "Holy crap," he repeated, incredulous. "I'm not sick anymore!"

Sasuke nodded once, pretended to be nonchalant. "You're welcome, idiot." He started to walk away.

"This is amazing! Damn, I can't believe —" Naruto stopped suddenly. "Wait." The planks let out a low groan as Naruto got to his feet. "Could you have done that the whole time?!"

Sasuke couldn't stop the smirk from spreading across his face as Naruto yelled behind him. It was unfortunate; the loser had actually started to grow on him. In another life, perhaps, they might've even been friends.

Naruto was still shouting. "You asshole —" Sasuke passed Kakashi, but he didn't acknowledge the jonin. He kept his gaze locked straight ahead, making his way towards the back of the boat where Jiraiya was waiting for him.

Just walk away.

It was almost painful, though, leaving the two of them behind. But he forced his body forward, forced his legs to keep moving. This wasn't his life; he couldn't have it, wasn't allowed to — Danzo had destroyed that possibility for him entirely.

But how different things might've been had Sasuke been with them from the start.

Jiraiya was watching him silently. Sasuke rolled back his shoulders as he got closer to the man, had to forcibly make his body relax. Just act like nothing happened. It was an effort not to fidget as Jiraiya raked his eyes over him. He doesn't know. He doesn't know.

Jiraiya gave him a terse nod, then, his lips pursed as he jutted his chin out towards the cliff. "Ready to go?"

Sasuke breathed a careful sigh of relief. He doesn't know. He met Jiraiya's gaze. "Yeah, I'm ready."

• • •

They made their way to the base of the cliff quickly, running across the swelling water in complete silence. The waves became increasingly rougher the closer they got, and Sasuke had to devote a frustratingly large amount of energy on not accidentally falling beneath the tide. So much so, in fact, that he almost completely missed Jiraiya's signal to stop when the time came.

He jolted to an abrupt halt, his foot breaking the surface of the water. A sharp panic swelled in his throat as he lurched to the side and suddenly he was falling, the waves rising underneath him and about to swallow him whole and —

Something firm and solid suddenly materialized under him. He gripped onto it automatically, his arms wrapping around it like a vise and his fingers digging into it hard.

"You okay?" Jiraiya had to yell over the noise around them. Sasuke looked up, realized that the man had caught him.

Despite the fact that the danger had passed, Sasuke could still feel his body shaking. He took a breath, tried to focus on steadying the chakra flow to his feet. You're fine. You're fine.

He gave Jiraiya a single nod as he pushed his body up, not entirely trusting himself to speak. In any other circumstance, he might've been embarrassed by his clumsiness. But his pride was overshadowed by the monstrous height of the cliffs in front of him and the powerful undulation of the sea below him. He felt incredibly small in that moment; insignificant, almost. And so he kept a tight hold on Jiraiya, didn't let go of the man's shirt until he was certain he'd found his footing.

You're fine. Everything's fine.

Jiraiya gave him a thumbs up once Sasuke managed to stand on his own. He opened his mouth, said something as he pointed back towards the cliff. The waves drowned his voice out entirely.

Sasuke looked at him, his brow furrowing. "What?"

Jiraiya repeated himself. Or Sasuke thought he repeated himself, at least — he still had no idea what the fuck the man was saying.

He shook his head at the Sannin. "What?"

Jiraiya pointed towards the cliff again, this time motioning for Sasuke to follow him.

In all honesty, Sasuke didn't want to get anywhere near the damn cliff. He could barely see it in the dark, and the crash of the waves against its base was deafening. It was all too easy to imagine his own body being thrust against the rocks, the impact rupturing his skin and crushing his bones. And then he'd sink to the bottom of the bay, doomed to lie forever with the ghosts of ships and shattered men.

But he'd come so far already — his brother was right at the top of this fucking cliff. He was right there.

Sasuke followed Jiraiya wordlessly.

The Sannin stopped a few feet away from cliff. Sasuke kept a careful distance between them, but soon Jiraiya was looking back at him, silently urging him to walk forward. Sasuke raised a brow, considering the man skeptically as he glanced back at the cliff. A wave slammed against the rocks somewhere to their left, sprayed them both with a heavy mist of water.

He took a few hesitant steps closer.

Even in the dark, Sasuke could see Jiraiya roll his eyes. He waved a hand at Sasuke. Closer.

He took another few steps. But still, Jiraiya wanted him closer.

It took a few tries but, eventually, Sasuke was deemed close enough. He was practically on top of the man at that point, their chests nearly brushing.

Jiraiya gave him a nod. Sasuke could still barely hear him, but he was able to make out the words, this time: watch this.

Jiraiya bit his thumb and performed a number of seals over Sasuke's head. Sasuke was about to open his mouth, to ask Jiraiya what the fuck he was doing, but soon his vision was clouded by a white puff of smoke and his body was rising rapidly through the air and his nausea was back and holy fuck Jiraiya was actually going to get them both killed.

It took Sasuke a moment to realize that they'd stop moving. And it took him another moment to realize that not only was Jiraiya talking to him, but he could actually hear what the man was saying.

"You alright there, Uchiha?"

Sasuke jerked his head up, saw Jiraiya grinning down at him. The man tapped his foot against the ground. "Meet Gamabunta. He's going to be very angry about this later."

Sasuke felt his eyes widen as he looked down. Not the ground. "Gamabunta?"

A loud, irate voice sounded beneath him. "What the fuck is this?"

Jiraiya rolled his eyes. "What did I tell you?" he muttered before peering down to address whatever the fuck they were standing on. "Just give me a second, Bunta."

"Give you a second?!" the beast roared, Sasuke's entire body vibrating with the force of it. "I have half a mind to —"

Jiraiya ignored Gamabunta entirely, instead craning his neck to look up at the cliff.

Sasuke followed his gaze. Despite the fact that they were now partway up, the cliff was still a terribly foreboding sight to behold. "Are we climbing it?"

Jiraiya grimaced. "That had been the plan, yeah." He studied the rocks, his lips pursed. "It seemed like a good idea back on the ship, at least."

Sasuke took a breath. "And now?"

"Well, it depends," Jiraiya looked back over his shoulder at Sasuke. "How much of an entrance are you looking to make?"